Nonliving Reflection
by AmberStarry
Summary: It's just Kaoru and his real reflection now...


**Non-living Reflection**

A large full-length mirror stood in the middle of the room, casting an ominous aura throughout the immense space. It was the only furnishing in the large expanse of area it was placed in, making the room feel extremely sparse and austere. Perhaps that was the intention, for the room had never been used for any other purpose – well, as far as Kaoru knew anyway.

Said boy stood directly in front of the mirror, peering with curiosity and tribulation at his reflection. Of course the image that stood before him sported the usual attributions of a reflection: it naturally showed him staring straight back at himself. Clad in his loose fitting white T-shirt and baggy white slacks, which hung languidly off his slim body. His topaz eyes drank in every detail, from his bare feet, that were almost indiscernible from under the excess fabric of his pants, to his fiery auburn hair, which was fashionably gelled into a voguish, spiked style.

But Kaoru saw more than that as well. He also saw his brother, wearing the same outfit and expression, watching him from the other side of the mirror. He saw the troubled look in his eyes that seemed to plead desperately for consolation from the afflictions that ailed him. The pain that was visible in those pools of liquid amber was breathtaking – and not in the good way either; it felt as if the boy before him was suffocating under a sea of worries, screaming for help yet not being heard.

Kaoru closed his eyes and shook his head to rid himself of the sentiment. As long as it was he who was standing in front of the mirror, it was he who was staring back. It was just so surreal though, seeing the emotion that ensnared him constantly, projected onto a visible embodiment. He liked to think that he wasn't in that much pain, that this was something that would pass. But as time went by, and he revisited this room, only to stand in front of the mirror and see the exact anguish plaguing his body that he had the last time, he started loosing hope. He didn't want to be dependent on his brother for the rest of his life, he didn't want Hikaru to be his primary lifeline; but _he was_.

The reflection frowned and averted its eyes to the ground. Knowing that there was a living, breathing copy of him out there did not quash the nerve-wracking sensation that his reflection could walk out of the confines of that frame and embrace him at any time. It seemed so real, like it had a life of it's own, and it always seemed like it longed to comfort him. To hug him and tell him everything was going to be all right, with or without Hikaru.

A click sounded a few feet away from him, and Kaoru heard the distinct sound of the door being opened. His breath hitched in his throat, as tears started to well up and over his lashes. He did not want anyone to see him like this, only his reflection could know and not judge him, because it essentially was him. Nobody could understand why he felt like his soul was being ripped apart strand by strand as his brother moved further and further away from him with each passing day. Nobody knew what it was like to only have one person, and for that one person to drift away from you like sand falling through your fingers when you try to pick it up. Not even his reflection knew that part, because a reflection always needed at least one person to reflect.

"Kaoru?" Hikaru's voice echoed through the empty room, worried and scared.

Hikaru and Kaoru had this thing, it wasn't exactly telepathy, but it was close. They could always sense when the other was in trouble or upset, and so they went to each other's aid. This was one of the few times when Kaoru desperately wished Hikaru didn't know when he was upset. He didn't want Hikaru to see him like this.

"Kaoru!" Hikaru gasped, catching sight of his twin who was standing in front of the mirror, tears now streaming down his face. Without a second thought, Hikaru rushed over to Kaoru and enveloped him in a hug, "What's wrong?"

Kaoru stiffened; this was so similar to his earlier thoughts of the reflection comforting him, that he almost felt like he had déjà vu. Hikaru pulled away, feeling Kaoru go rigid in what he assumed to be fear, "It's alright, it's just me." He said softly, looking Kaoru in the eyes.

Kaoru sniffed and wiped the tears away from one of his eyes, "I'm okay, really." He mumbled, putting on a weak smile.

Hikaru frowned, just like the reflection had, and then averted his eyes. "Why are you lying to me?" He asked sadly, hurt at the fact Kaoru would not tell him what was wrong.

Kaoru's eyes widened, "No, no, I'm not lying! I just…" Kaoru's voice trailed off and he bowed his head in shame. He just didn't want Hikaru to worry, even though he was worrying anyway. It just seemed unfair for both of them to be miserable, especially when Hikaru was so happy now.

"You know you'll be fine, right?" Hikaru soothed, patting Kaoru's hair. Because Kaoru was looking down, he couldn't see Hikaru's expression, but he could almost hear the smile in Hikaru's words.

Kaoru smiled, "I'd like to believe that," He responded, lifting his head up. His reflection smiled back at him sadly, the tears once again streaming down his pale cheeks.

That was the way it used to be, when there hadn't been any distractions. Now that Hikaru spent more and more time with Haruhi, he noticed Kaoru's emotions less and less. Maybe that was why Kaoru visited this room so often now; perhaps he was wishing that this reflection really was Hikaru, even though he knew it was impossible. As long as it was he standing in front of the mirror, it was him who was staring back. Hikaru was somewhere else now, laughing and joking with Haruhi.

It was just him and his real reflection now, the one that could never step through the frame.

"I'll never be fine."


End file.
